


by a love so much refined that our selves know not what it is

by el_em_en_oh_pee



Series: tumblr "drabbles" [8]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-25 12:42:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7533196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/el_em_en_oh_pee/pseuds/el_em_en_oh_pee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I don’t even know why I agreed to this,” Louis says loudly, as Harry shepherds him into the car and dumps their bags in the trunk.</p>
<p>“Because you felt bad that Gemma kept teasing me that I’ve never liked anyone well enough to bring them home to meet the family,” Harry says, pouting a little. He sticks the key in the ignition, starts the car, and then pauses to look over at Louis. He flutters his eyelashes. “And because you’re the very best mate that anyone could ever ask for.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Or, Harry and Louis fake dating for about thirty minutes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	by a love so much refined that our selves know not what it is

**Author's Note:**

> yadda yadda crossposting tumblr drabbles

“I don’t even know why I agreed to this,” Louis says loudly, as Harry shepherds him into the car and dumps their bags in the trunk.

“Because you felt bad that Gemma kept teasing me that I’ve never liked anyone well enough to bring them home to meet the family,” Harry says, pouting a little. He sticks the key in the ignition, starts the car, and then pauses to look over at Louis. He flutters his eyelashes. “And because you’re the very best mate that anyone could ever ask for.”

“Don’t you forget it,” says Louis. He opens a bag of crisps and starts eating them as Harry navigates off their street and onto the main road. “Want one?”

“Yeah,” Harry says, opening his mouth expectantly until Louis pokes a crisp in. He closes his mouth a beat too quickly, and his lips brush against Louis’s fingertips.

“Anyway,” Louis says, even louder, voice pitched high. He wipes his fingers off on his jeans in rapid, jerky movements. “Road trip!”

—

“Of course you’ll have to stay in separate rooms,” Harry’s mum says, after they’ve finally wrestled their bags into the front foyer of his house. “Now that you’re dating.”

“Of course,” Louis says, faintly. He flashes a look at Harry. Harry just shrugs. He hadn’t thought of this possibility, but it makes sense. His mum never let Gemma’s boyfriends stay in the same room as her, either. Of course Gemma has already told him all her tricks about sneaking boys into her bedroom after their mum’s gone to sleep.

And there he is, forgetting that Louis only agreed to be his pretend boyfriend. Not that he asked for anything more. Whatever, he and Louis have shared a room since they were too broke after uni to spring for a two-bedroom flat. It would be weird to sleep alone.

Louis holds Harry’s hand under the table throughout dinner and presses a kiss to Harry’s cheek while Gemma goes to fetch pudding. He is a very good fake boyfriend, and Harry’s mum asks Harry to help her do the washing-up after they’re all done. “He’s a nice lad,” she tells him, while he’s all sudsy.

“Mum, you’ve met him loads of times before,” Harry says.

“Yes, but then he was your best mate.”

“He’s still my best mate,” Harry says, quietly, looking at his hands, which are yellow due to his rubber gloves, and very wet. He scrubs halfheartedly at the plate in the sink.

“Oh, chick,” Harry’s mum says, and she presses a kiss to his forehead and gives him a quick side-snuggle. “That’s the very best sort of boyfriend to have.”

Something twists in Harry’s stomach, hot and heavy. He kind of regrets that last serving of pudding.

—

“So I was thinking,” whispers Louis, when they’re curled up watching a film with Harry’s mum and sister. “I’m not a very convincing boyfriend if I don’t try and sneak into your room at night.”

“I’ve only got one bed,” Harry warns him, just as quiet. They do sometimes share that, too - beds - at home, when they’re too tired or too drunk to stop their nightly cuddle, but they do have two of them in their room.

“So?” Louis says, and Harry grins. 

—

Louis tiptoes across the hall after everyone else is asleep and pushes Harry’s door open, gently. “Still awake, Haz?”

“Mmmm,” Harry mumbles. He is, but only barely. “Come cuddle me, boyfriend-Louis. Miss you.”

Louis scurries over and slips into bed with him. He wraps an arm around Harry’s waist and digs his nose into Harry’s naked collarbone. It’s cold as ice. “Hey,” Harry protests.

“We should probably sound like we’re having sex,” Louis says, which - what? “Your mum probably expects that.”

“I don’t want my mum to hear me having sex,” Harry says. He rubs at his eyes to help himself wake up a little. “That’s weird.”

"It doesn’t have to be real.”

It doesn’t have to be? “But it can be?”

Louis is silent for a long moment, which is answer enough. Harry opens his eyes wide. Louis is luminous in the moonlight - Harry hates closing his curtains, and he’s glad for it, because Louis is especially beautiful with the soft glow painting his features. It’s not the same as London, where the light is mostly artificial and comes from streetlamps. Louis is still pretty then, to, because Louis is always pretty, but in the moonlight - he’s especially gorgeous. “Lou,” says Harry. “Can I kiss you? To make it more convincing.”

“Yeah,” Louis says. His voice rasps over the words. “Yeah, you can.”

So Harry leans in. He brushes a bit of fringe higher up on Louis’s forehead and carefully takes his glasses off, folding them up and placing them on his windowsill. “Louis,” he whispers, and presses a hand to Louis’s cheek, runs his thumb roughly over Louis’s lips, which part in its wake.

He leans in and kisses him.

It isn’t the first time they’ve kissed; they’ve been drunk and horny together before, but somehow, it feels different tonight. They’re sober, for one, the glasses of wine they had with dinner not enough to do anything but make Harry sleepier, and they’re in a house full of people who think they’re dating. 

Louis’s mouth is familiar, and yet not. Harry is used to it moving quickly against his, a series of almost jabbing pecks as he works Harry’s lips open, but tonight he’s slow, barely brushing his lips against Harry’s, the slide nearly tortuous until he grins into the kiss and then, suddenly, Harry can feel his tongue teasing against the seam of his own smile. It’s a slick drag, and Harry hasn’t moved his hand from Louis’s face by the time that Louis reaches around and rests one hand on the small of Harry’s back, burying his other in Harry’s hair.

Harry’s starting to get a bit of an awkward boner, and he tries to angle his hips away from Louis because of that, but of course when Louis sorts out that that’s what Harry’s trying to do, he laughs into the kiss, tugs at Harry’s lower lip with his teeth, and slips his hand down the back of Harry’s pants. Startled, Harry falls forward, enough that he can feel Louis’s cock nudging half-hard against his thigh, too.

“Lou,” he breathes, and Louis lets his head loll back onto the bed and looks up at Harry.

“‘Sthat all right?” he asks, and it would sound almost rhetorical but Harry catches the tremor in Louis’s voice.

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah.” And then he’s resting his hand on Louis’s belly, heavy and deliberate, until Louis nods at him. He drags it lower, slowly, letting his nails scratch lightly against the hair there until the heel of his palm bumps into Louis’s cock. “Can I?”

“Please,” Louis says, licking his lips, so Harry leans in to kiss him again, wrapping a hand around his shaft to get a feel of the heft of it. Louis’s dick isn’t the longest cock he’s ever got his hands around, but it’s got a lot of heft, and Harry’s dick twitches at the thought of that width spreading him open slowly.

Until: Fake boyfriends. That’s right. That doesn’t usually entail penetrative anal sex.

Granted, it probably doesn’t usually entail handies, either, but that’s what’s happening now. They’ve never gone this far before, but it feels natural, Harry wrapping his hand around Louis more firmly and giving it a steady, but quick, stroke, his thumb catching on Louis’s foreskin and pulling it down. He glances down between their bodies to see the head of Louis’s cock, glistening a little with precome in the scant light coming in through the window.

He just likes Louis so much.

He settles into a rhythm, twisting his wrist a little on the upstrokes. Harry’s circumcised, himself, but he’s slept with other men who aren’t and he’s heard that it feels really good when foreskin rubs against the head of your cock, as long as you’re careful about it. 

“Harry,” Louis gasps into their kiss, so Harry leans back a little, and then again, more urgently: “Harry,” and that’s all the warning Harry gets before Louis is spilling into his hand.

Curiously, Harry brings his hand up to his mouth to take a taste. Louis’s spunk is bitter and salty, and Harry can’t quite get enough of the flavor.

When he next glances at Louis, Louis is staring at him, eyes dark. Almost self-consciously, Harry wipes the last of the come onto his pants. 

Louis huffs a little breath out, and years of living with him, of watching him as much as he possibly could, tells Harry that this is, in fact, a laugh. Harry is so hard it practically hurts, and it’s all he can do to keep from rolling his hips pointedly down against Louis’s thigh, but he stops himself and huffs out a little laugh of his own as well.

"You know what would really convince your mum and sister that we’re boyfriends?” Louis asks, stretching a little, arching his back. Harry’s mouth goes dry even as his heart sinks at the reminder that this isn’t real.

“What’s that, Lou?” he asks. He surreptitiously places the heel of his hand against his cock and presses it back against his stomach to try and relieve some of the pressure. 

“If we decided to be actual boyfriends,” Louis says, a little sleepily.

“I -” Harry says, and stops. “Are you serious?”

Louis looks up at him, a little warily. “Maybe,” he says. “I mean. Do you want me to be?”

“Yes,” Harry breathes, and he leans down to brush another kiss against Louis’s lips.

“Then yes,” says Louis. He grins up at Harry. “Good. That’s sorted. You’re my boyfriend.”

“I - good,” Harry says, a little awkwardly. His heart isn’t sinking anymore; it’s flying up somewhere around the vicinity of Mars now, maybe. Maybe Venus. Probably Venus. 

“Good,” Louis echos, and then he glances down between the two of them. “So, boyfriend-” and Harry’s stomach clenches in a good way at that - “fancy a blowjob?”

Harry’s mouth goes dry. He swallows hard. “Yes,” he says. “I do.”

**Author's Note:**

> [original post](http://dulosis.tumblr.com/post/71488577865/hl-fake-dating)   
>  [title](http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems-and-poets/poems/detail/44131)


End file.
